A Choir of Angels
by Writer In The Night
Summary: Seraphim has a strange background, in genetics alone. Her mother, Harleen Quintzel. Her father, the Joker. Her own sanity seems to be tenuous. How will the gang at Sky High react to having her, unwittingly, drawn into their ranks? Will/OC post-movie.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Here's a new one, hope you like it.

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Sky High. Nor do I own any other people you might know, including those that may or may not be from a series about a certain dark knight. I do, however, own Seraphim. The person, not any choir of angels.

Chapter 1

First Day; Surprises

Boarding the bus, I knew how they would treat me. The looks they showed me were more than enough. They all looked at me like I was some… no, I'm not going to say it, or, rather, think it. They all looked at me like I was some weirdo, just like dear old Dad. Which, I suppose, I was. But I had enough of Mom in me to not let the… weirdo take over, like Dad did. At least, most times I did. Not that I ever spent too much one-on-one time with Dad. When I was born, both of my parents were too busy being villains to care, always scheming at ways to cause chaos.

I should probably tell you who I am. My name is Seraphim Quintzel, and my Dad's the Joker. Now, I know what you're saying. Or, at least, I know what you're thinking. Most people don't know of my existence. But, after today, that'll be changed forever. You see, today, I start the most dreaded four years of my life thus far, which in and of itself isn't something to sneeze at; High school.

As I said, I knew exactly how these people would treat me. But I also knew I wasn't going to let it worry me. People usually acted like that no matter where I went. I was dressed in an old outfit that I had found in the back of my closet. It seemed oddly reminiscent of my father, but I didn't care. These kiddies would probably have been forewarned against me, so I didn't expect to be making friends, not that I could if I really wanted to.

Anyways. I managed to find a seat by myself before the bus began to move. I waited for the ride to be over, humming an old show tune under my breath. The bus stopped again, and a couple of chicas got on, gibbering away between themselves. After what seemed like forever, restraints sprang out of the seats, holding us in place, and the bus flew off of the overpass. Not over, but it literally flew _off _of the overpass. A few people screamed. I giggled. Upon landing on the floating school, I waited for everyone else to leave the bus before departing myself. My purple coattails swished around my knees as I walked up the steps of the school, kiddies practically climbing into each other's pockets to get out of my way, and I did what I knew they were expecting. I laughed. Manically, crazily, insanely, however you wish to perceive it, that's how it was. Some blonde chica in white was calling for all of the freshman, so I walked over to her, back to humming that old show tune. She took us on a whirlwind tour of the school, which I didn't pay attention to, though I probably should have, all the while chattering cheerfully away, before dumping us in the gym for what she called 'Power Placement.'

The principal, a woman named Powers that bore a shocking resemblance to Wonder Woman, stood at a podium and talked at us before turning into a comet and flying off over our heads. Next some guy came out of the floor and loudly, as in more loudly than humanly possible, introduced himself as Coach 'Boomer.'

He began to test different students on their powers, sorting them all into two groups: Heroes and Sidekicks. Appearing unconcerned and again humming show tunes under my breath, I waited, half of my mind keeping an eye out for him to point at me, the other half going through some calming techniques.

He pointed at me what felt like forever later, though we hadn't even broke for lunch. I made my way, smiling, up the steps to the platform he was standing on, which had risen out of the floor with him.

"Name?" Boomer asked as I stood there next to him.

"Seraphim Quintzel," I said, ending my humming. It was quite obvious he already knew who I was.

"Show me your power," he said with a little trepidation.

"Yes Sir, Mr. Boss Man," I said cheekily, throwing in a sloppy salute for effect. I reached into one of my many inner coat pockets and pulled out a sharpened pencil. "Would you like to see me make this pencil disappear?"

Everyone in the room visibly flinched. I laughed, waving a hand over the pencil.

"We're all keen on your father's tricks, Quintzel," Boomer said.

"Keen on my father's tricks you may be, but you've never seen me!" I said gleefully. Still waving my hand over the pencil, it disappeared. Boomer blinked.

"What did you do?" he asked.

"I made the pencil disappear," I said, waving my hand over the empty space in my other hand. The pencil reappeared there.

"So you can make stuff invisible?" he asked.

"No," I said, keeping my frustration with the Neanderthal at a minimal. "I made it disappear." I concentrated hard on his clipboard, pointed at it, and suddenly it was gone. He looked around for it for a moment before looking back at me.

"Can I have my clipboard back?" he asked.

I winked, surreptitiously pointing a finger at him, and it appeared under his foot.

"Car," he said after bending to pick up the clipboard, pushing a button on the remote in his other hand. A car dropped down from over my head, and I waved my hands above my head, from directly above me to over to the side. For all intents and purposes, the car disappeared. "Hero."

I grinned before flouncing off the platform back to the waiting masses. Well, okay. So they were waiting to see where I went so that they could dive out of the way. Same basic principle. They were still waiting. I snapped my fingers over my head, and the car appeared again, right in the middle of the platform.

The bell finally rang and I skipped off to the cafeteria, still without anyone getting in a ten foot radius of me. I loved the solitude, and met it with a skip in my step and a grin in my face. Which, if anything, made the invisible radius between me and everyone else larger. The cafeteria, like many a cliché teen movie, was packed. Again, not that it mattered. I flounced over to a table full of chicas and sat, pulling a brown paper bag out of one of my coat's inner pockets. The table was empty by the time I looked up. Shrugging, I dug into the bag, to see what Mumsie dearest had packed up for me. Oh, how fantastic. A bologna sandwich and a juice box. How original, Mom.

I ate my lunch in silence, partaking in one of my favorite pass-times. People-watching.

I saw a couple of geeks making out, a few groups laughing, and more than a few curious people just staring at me. I grinned when I found the watching eyes, and they uneasily looked away. I saw the blonde chica that had led us freshman through the school earlier cuddled up to the classic bad boy, complete with black leather jacket, looking rather out of place at a table full of rather preppy looking people.

Next to Blondie and Baddie was a dark-haired punk-goth chick who was holding hands under the table with the tall, brightly 'gangsta' stylized boy next to her. Across from them, a glasses-sporting black kid in orange was talking animatedly, brandishing his fork like a sword. Everyone else at the table was paying attention to him. Next to him was a redheaded hippie chick and an all-American boy. They seemed to be the most diverse group in the whole cafeteria, and they all started laughing when the black boy finished his narration.

The bell rang just as I finished my lunch, so I flounced back to the gym to watch the rest of Power Placement. One guy turned into a lion, getting hero, and another turned into an ant, getting sidekick. One girl sprouted wings out of her back and got hero, and another read Boomer's mind, also making hero. Eventually, after quite a few more, the final bell rang and we all headed out to the buses. I was quiet the whole ride home, and trudged slowly up the front walk to the small, one story house I lived in with my mother. Since she was still on her way home from work, there were no cars in the driveway. I unlocked the door and walked into the kitchen, receiving the shock of my life, which, again, was nothing to sneeze at.

There, sitting at the kitchen table, playing mumblety-peg with a butcher's knife, was one of Gotham's biggest criminals. He also happened to be my father.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own it. If you need a refresher as to what it is I don't own, just check out the first chapter.

Chapter 2

Father Figure; The Alley

_There, sitting at the kitchen table, playing mumblety-peg with a butcher's knife, was one of Gotham's biggest criminals. He also happened to be my father._

"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked. The Joker's mouth stretched into a mirthless grin as he set the knife on the table.

"Now now, dearie," he said. "Is that any way to talk to your father?"

"Your no father to me," I said venomously.

"Don't lie," he said. "It's my blood that runs through your veins, just as much as it's your mother's."

"That's the only thing you've ever given me," I said. "Aren't you still supposed to be in Arkham?" He waved it off as if it were nothing. "Then what are you doing here?"

"Just thought I'd ask how your first day at school went," he said. "Isn't that what a good father does?"

"You've never seemed to wonder at what a good father would do when it mattered," I said. "Why start now?"

"I have always been a good father to you," The Joker said, his voice and temper rising.

"You've got a funny way of showing it," I scoffed back. "For the first ten years of my life you were too busy playing the bad guy to pay attention to me, then you got locked up in Arkham, and me stuck Asylum, for that matter, and now, six years later, out of nowhere, you're here? Sure, that's great parenting skills."

"Seraphim Quintzel, that's enough!" he said, shouting the last bit. "I didn't take that kind of talk from your mother, and I certainly won't take it from you!" The sound of a car pulling into the drive cut him off, and I turned to look out the window to see my mother's car in the driveway. I turned back and he was gone. Shaken, I sunk into the chair he had just vacated as Mom walked through the door.

"Hey, honey," she said, tossing her purse onto the counter. "How was school?"

When I didn't say anything, she looked towards me. "That bad, huh?"

"What?" I asked, shaking myself out of the funk. "Nah. It was okay."

"The other kids give you trouble?" she asked, hugging me from behind the chair. I snorted back laughter.

"They wouldn't even come near me," I said. "They were too scared about what their parents most likely said about Dad."

"That's such a shame," she said absentmindedly, twirling a lock of my hair. I surged to my feet, rising with my temper, and easily broke her grasp.

"Like you care," I shouted. "All I have to do is mention anything that has the slightest thing to do with Dad and your mind goes blank! Even after he left both of us, he's still all you care about, isn't he? Nothing else matters, does it?" I didn't even wait for an answer before turning on my heel and running down the hall to my room. I tossed my jacket aside and changed into some sweats and a t-shirt before heading out for a jog, stopping just long enough to notice that my mother was now sitting in the chair I had vacated, the same absentminded expression on her face. I jogged down the street and across the major roads, further into downtown Maxville. I didn't really know the city well, having just moved there from Gotham, but at this point it didn't matter. I didn't care where I went, as long as it was away from home. I was jogging down an alley behind a restaurant I didn't recognize an indeterminable amount of time later when a figure stepped out in front of me.

"What's such a pretty little girl doing out alone at a time like this?" he asked, his voice slightly slurred. It was only then that I realized how dark it was, and how high the moon had risen. I had apparently been jogging for hours, lost in my thoughts without really noticing the time go by, which at this point I realized had been a bad idea. I backed up, intending to run the other way, when I backed into some_one_.

"She doesn't seem very talkative, Butch," the second person said in a deep voice. He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me in the air, securing my arms to my sides. I kicked with all my might, but couldn't find purchase.

"That's alright," the first one, Butch, said. "I'm sure I can think of something to make her squeal." At this, I went from near horror to outright panic. I knew that if I could just move my hands I could reach into my space pocket, which was where I made stuff 'disappear' to, but his arms were closed around me like a vice.

As Butch drew closer, I screamed at the top of my lungs. At the same moment, the back door to the restaurant opened, and somebody stepped out into the alley.

"Is there a problem?" he asked, his voice deep and masculine. I stopped screaming and the second man put me down, only to have Butch grab me up again.

"No problems here," the second one said, turning towards him.

"I was asking her," the guy from the restaurant said, pointing at me. I recognized him as Baddie, whom I had spotted earlier during lunch all cuddled up to Blondie, though now instead of the leather jacket he wore a white apron, his red on black hair pulled back in a ponytail.

"Help me!" I said, as loud as I could. Butch clamped a foul-smelling hand over my mouth.

"This don't seem to be none of your business, Pretty Boy," said Butch, slowly dragging me backwards.

Baddie dropped the bag of trash I'd only just realized he was holding, and his arms lit with flames. "Put her down," he said, his voice full of menace. I reevaluated him and changed his nickname. Butch didn't need telling twice. He dropped me like a hot potato and he and his buddy were gone in a flash. Flamer put out the flames running up his arms and walked over to where I knelt on the alley floor.

"You okay?" he asked, putting a warm hand on my shoulder. I nodded, and he helped me up.

"Thanks," I said.

"Not a problem," he said, studying my face. "Didn't I see you in school today?"

"Sitting by myself and people watching? People falling all over each other to get out of my way?" I asked. "Yeah, that was me."

He chuckled a little and led me into the restaurant's kitchen.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"I used to be the same way," he said.

"Not quite," I said. He looked at me, as if telling me to continue. "People act that way because of who my father is, no matter where I go or what I do."

"They did the same to me, for the same reasons," he said with a smirk.

"And who would your father be?" I asked.

"Baron Battle," he said with a grimace.

"Never heard of him," I said with a sniff.

"Seriously?" he asked. I pointed to myself.

"New in town," I said. He led me into the restaurant, which was empty, and we sat at a table.

"What were you doing out there?" he asked.

"Jogging," I said. He shook his head.

"So why do you act so crazy?" he asked, changing the subject. I shrugged.

"Because of who my dad is, people expect it of me," I said. "And, it's easier. When you're crazy, people tend to not ask you any favors. They just leave you on your merry way."

"But don't you ever just, need someone to talk to?" he asked.

"Meh," I said with a shrug. "Haven't yet. And it's not always safe for me to have friends." Suddenly, a woman in the back started shouting at Flamer, whom used to be Baddie, in Chinese. He answered her in the same language before turning back to me.

"Give me a minute, I've got to go punch out," he said, standing up. "Then I'll walk you home."

"You don't have to," I said, also standing. "I can make it home fine."

"Do you really want to run into those two again?" he asked. My eyes got big and I sat back down.

"I can wait," I said sweetly. He grinned before heading back to the kitchen, shouting again in Chinese to the woman back there. He was back within a few minutes, sans apron, instead donning the leather jacket once again. We left through the front, and I turned to look at the name of the restaurant.

"The Paper Lantern," I said. "Huh."

"So where do you live, Crazy?" he asked. Apparently I wasn't the only one with a penchant for nicknames.

"Um…" I said, looking both ways.

"What's your address?" he asked with a sigh, realizing with chagrin that I had no clue where I was.

"1352 Mockingbird Lane," I said. He led me to the left, and I followed, matching his stride. After a few minutes, he picked up the conversation again.

"What did you mean before, when you said it's not always safe for you to have friends?" he asked. I gave him an 'are you serious?' look.

"Don't you know who my father is?" I asked. He shook his head. "So your parents didn't warn you that the big bad Joker's daughter was coming to the same school you go to?" He shrugged again.

"Mom doesn't really keep up with the news," he said. "And, considering who _my_ father is, and what he did, I don't believe in the curse of our fathers."

"Well, when I said it's not safe for me to have friends, I meant that it's not safe for people to be friends with me, strictly because of who my father is," I said. We walked in silence the rest of the way to my house, him contemplating what I had said, me coping with not being alone for the first time in a long time.

"Thanks for walking me home," I said as I started up the path. He turned to leave.

"See you 'round, Crazy," he said.

I entered the house and found Mom at her desk in the living room, going through some paperwork.

"Did you have a nice jog?" she asked, not looking up from her papers.

"It was okay," I said. "I'm gonna head to bed."

"Good night, honey," she said.

"Night," I returned before retreating to my sanctuary.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.**

**Chapter 3**

**The Next Day; Asylum**

"_**Did you have a nice jog?" she asked, not looking up from her papers.**_

"_**It was okay," I said. "I'm gonna head to bed."**_

"_**Good night, honey," she said.**_

"_**Night," I returned before retreating to my sanctuary.**_

**I woke up the next morning to my alarm clock, and, after shutting off the annoying buzzing, got up and studied myself in the mirror. I had my father's height, but my mother's slim figure. I had a little bit of extra weight here and there, but it wasn't really noticeable. I had my mother's bone structure, but my father's green hair fell past my shoulders. The last thing I looked at were my eyes, brown, but so empty and dark they appeared black.**

_**Maybe Flamer was right,**_** I thought. **_**Maybe I do need someone to talk to…**_** Shaking off the thought, I got dressed, my outfit much subdued from yesterday. I pulled my hair back in a psychedelic purple and green scarf that clashed chaotically with the yellow shirt and blue jeans I was wearing. I made my way, thinking, to the bus stop after the basic breakfast, teeth brushing, 'love you, Mom,' and grabbing of lunch and backpack.**

**Predictably, Mom didn't bring up my outburst from the previous night, and neither did I. They happened often enough, and we never talked about them. For that matter, we never really talked. For all of her higher education and work experience, she really didn't know how to talk to me. She could talk to her patients no problem and get them to open up about what was going on in their heads like a flower, but she didn't even try with me. She didn't dare. Not because of anything I'd done, but because she was afraid that I'd be too much like my father. Which, at times, I must admit, she's right.**

**I was stopped from letting my musings run into dangerous territory as the bus pulled up to my stop. I hopped on and sat in the same empty seat I had sat in the previous day. Though I was much more introverted today, nobody tried to sit with me or talk to me. Not wanting to get lost in my thoughts, I looked out the window and watched suburbia flash by. It was a lot nicer here than it had been in Gotham, but I still missed the hustle and bustle of the big city. A little.**

**We climbed off of the bus and I was the first to make it to the gym, not bothering with the theatrics I had yesterday. The radius of emptiness was still around me, but it bothered me a lot more after that talk with Flamer. After receiving my homeroom number, which was posted outside the gym, I made my way there to get my schedule. There was no teacher in when I got there, but the room was open, so I went in and made myself comfy it a seat in the front row of what appeared to be a science class. Nobody ever wants to sit in front in high school, so it wasn't like I was interrupting anything when, as expected, nobody sat in the seats next to me or behind me.**

**The teacher walked in after the bell rang, and the first thing I noticed was his head. It was bald and HUGE!!!! Then I noticed the white lab coat and had to direct my eyes elsewhere. I had some bad memories attached to white lab coats, and really didn't need to tread in that dangerous territory.**

"**I am Mr. Medulla," he said in a slightly high pitched voice, the pitch raising towards the end before fluctuating for the rest of his speech, "and this is the Mad Science room. For you, this is homeroom. Lucky me." He then took role, pausing slightly at my name, and handed out schedules. The bell rang, and everyone got up to leave. "Miss Quintzel, if I could see your for a moment?"**

**I waited until everyone else had left before making my way up to his desk. He waved a hand at the door, and it closed.**

"**Is there a problem, sir?" I asked.**

"**Not a problem, necessarily," he said. "Just an intuitive thought. When people can't meet someone's eyes, it's usually because they're hiding something. You didn't look in my general direction once, and with your parentage…"**

"**You can't have me hiding anything," I finished for me. He nodded, and had the decency to look slightly ashamed at the invasion of privacy. It really was a reasonable request, since I still wasn't looking at him. "Well, you, and the principal, since I'm sure she's behind this, can rest assured. It's not that I'm hiding anything, per se, save for from myself." He raised an eyebrow, and I continued. "Your white lab coat reminds me of the six years I spent in Asylum." He nodded, his expression slightly disturbed, and motioned me out of the room. The next time I saw him, his lab coat was blue. It was the same when I had his class. But don't let me get ahead of myself. Before Mad Science, I had a class called Basic Psychic Defense. Again nobody sat next to me, and again the teacher, whom asked us to call her by her superhero name (Clairvoyant), paused at my name on roll. After roll, she began her lecture.**

"**Since there are no psychics in this class, I will be testing you all regularly on your defenses," she began. "Defending yourself from psychic attack is simple by definition, but truly difficult in practice. So, today, I'm going to tell you how to defend yourself, and try to enter each of your minds. The best way to defend yourself against mental attacks is to imagine a wall around your mind. The wall is as unbreakable as you think it is, so take your time deciding what kind of wall you use. In ten minutes time, I will begin testing." She sat behind her desk, and waited.**

**It was easy enough to figure out what kind of wall I was going to use. It was the same thing I used to know held my dad at bay. A long row of adamantium bars. A few minutes later, there was a mind in my voice.**

_**:Your walls need some work.:**_

**I looked up to see the teacher staring at me.**

_**:Get out of my head: **_**I thought harshly at her.**

_**:The point of this class is for you to keep me out.:**_** she said in my head. **_**:You're making this too easy. By the way, if you don't report your father's break-out to Principal Powers by the end of the day, I will.:**_

_**:How much digging did you do before you made yourself known?: **_**I asked vehemently.**

_**:You were practically shouting it at me,: **_**she said.**

_**:Get out,: **_**I thought. **_**:My mind is not the safest place to wander.:**_

_**:Trust me,: **_**she thought. **_**:I never wander in a student's mind. That would take away all of their privacy.:**_

_**:I'll work on my walls,: **_**I thought. **_**:But, please, for your safety, get out.:**_

_**:Just one more thing for you to think about,: **_**she said. **_**:As I said, the walls are only as strong as you think they are. Your doubt in Arkham's bars makes your walls weak. And the fact that they are **_**bars **_**makes them easy to slip through.:**_

**My head was silent, and I began to think of what kind of walls I could use. Before I could come up with anything, she spoke again, though this time not in my head.**

"**Class is about over," she began, causing me to look at the clock, which confirmed her analysis, "and not a single one of you was able to keep me out. But don't be discouraged, this kind of thing takes a lot of practice. So, for your homework, I want you all to take some time out when you get home and practice. And, believe me," she said, tapping her temple, "I'll know if you haven't."**

**The bell rang as she finished, and everyone gathered their things and left, a little more subdued than they had entered. I made my way to my locker, still thinking on my walls, and was jarred from my thoughts as somebody bumped into my shoulder. I looked up from the floor, and was shocked to notice the radius around me was gone. Maybe it was because I didn't appear as insane today, or maybe they'd just forgotten who I was. I shook my head, not really caring, and continued to my locker. I put all of my things inside and grabbed my gym bag.**

**I headed to the gym and made my way into the girl's locker room. Chicas were already inside, chatting away about this, that, and the latest gossip. Nobody bothered me as I made my way to one of the back corners and changed into the school's mandatory blue and orange uniform. I made my way, head down and not uttering a word, out to the gym, where there were a few kids, already in uniform, playing basketball. I shrugged and grabbed a ball from the rack and headed to another hoop to waste some time shooting free throws while I waited for the teacher to arrive. More people began trickling in from the locker rooms, and soon each hoop was busy. The teacher, Coach Boomer, arrived a few minutes after I started shooting, and shouted everybody into order. Those with the basketballs put them back on the rack before lining up with everyone. I just put mine into my space pocket and headed to the end of the line.**

"**Welcome to gym class," Boomer barked. "Here you will begin your physical training. We will start today by working out the basics of hand-to-hand combat. I want each of you to choose a partner to spar with." Everybody began running around towards their friends, hoping they didn't get stuck with someone they didn't like. Since, of course, nobody wanted to partner with me, I simply raised my hand. Boomer sighed. "Yes, Quintzel, you can spar with a practice dummy."**

"**That's not it, sir," I said. "I was wondering if I could be excused to go to the principal's office."**

"**Any particular reason?" he asked dismissively.**

"**To report my father's escape from Arkham?" I asked tentatively. Struck dumb, and with a tiny bit of fear shining through his eyes, he nodded.**

**I traversed the silent halls with trepidation, uncertain as to how I was going to break the news to Principal Powers. Once I made it to the office, I knocked lightly on the door, and was rewarded with a loud "Enter!" from within.**

**Principal Powers looked exactly the same as she had yesterday, but with a startled look on her face when she realized who it was at the door. Her office was large, with a giant oak desk on one side, behind which the principal was sitting. The walls were plastered with framed clippings of newspaper articles about Sky High graduates in spandex.**

"**What can I do for you, Miss Quintzel?" she asked, shuffling around some papers on her desk.**

"**I'm here to report my father's escape from Arkham," I said. Principal Powers looked flabbergasted, but I held up a hand. "Please let me finish before you ask any questions." Principal Powers nodded, and I continued. "I have no idea when he broke out, but was in Maxville yesterday. He was sitting at my kitchen table when I got home from school, we had an altercation, and he left when my mother pulled into the driveway."**

"**What was the altercation about?" Principal Powers asked. I scoffed.**

"**His parenting skills, or lack-there-of," I said. "Now, I know you'll want to analyze this 'til we're both blue in the face, but I really don't want to miss my first real day of classes. So, do you think this can wait until after school?"**

"**Wha… Bu… This is Gotham's most notorious criminal we're talking about!" Powers said. "And you want it to wait until after school to discuss his escape?"**

"**Principal Powers, I understand what you're saying," I said, "but he's most likely been out of Arkham for quite some time now, and hasn't killed anyone yet. What makes you think a few more hours is going to change that?"**

"**you would know him better than I, Miss Quintzel," Powers said. "But I want you here as soon as that final bell rings. We'll supply you with transport home, and I'll call your mother as soon as you leave.""Please, Principal Powers," I begged. "Don't tell her that it's because my father escaped. It would either destroy her or turn her again. And as many times as she's switched sides, I don't know if her mind can take it again."**

"**What should I tell her?" Powers asked.**

"**Just… tell her that I got a detention for fighting, and that I'll explain everything when I get home," I said.**

"**Under normal circumstances, I would never lie to the parent of a student. But, considering whom we're talking about here, I'll agree to it," Principal Powers said, waving me out of the office. "Don't forget. Final bell."**

**I made it through the rest of the day without actually interacting with anyone other than my teachers. I heard plenty of whispers, and caught more than enough glances, veiled and unveiled, to know that **_**everyone was talking about me, or, more appropriately, my father. I did my best to ignore it all, but, by the end of the day, I was at my wits end. And my worry of the upcoming interrogation was not helping.**_

_**When the final bell rang, I ran to my locker, grabbed the books I would need for homework that night, slammed the locker shut, and ran to the principal's office, shoving the books into my space pocket as I went. I knocked on the door and was again beckoned inside, though this time there were a few more people inside. Aside from Principal Powers, there was Coach Boomer, The Commander and Jetstream, and, most surprisingly of all (though it really shouldn't have been), The Batman.**_

_**At the last, my eyes bulged. This was the man who had put my father away. This was the man who had caused my life to change, first for the far worse, but eventually for the better. I wasn't sure whether to hug him or hit him, but, since either would most likely bring forth a painful reaction (painful on my part, reaction on his), I simply stood there with what I was sure was a dumb look on my face.**_

"_**Miss Quintzel," Principal Powers said, "please come in. There are a few other people I needed to contact before you explained what happened, and now they're here. So, please, start from the beginning."**_

_**They went over the five minute conversation for three hours straight. They went over what was said, what wasn't said, what could've been said, what was implied, and everything else under the sun. By the time I got home, I was so tired I could've just dropped. If, that is, I didn't have to explain to my mother why I had gotten 'detention.' As I expected, my mother was waiting for me at the kitchen table.**_

"_**Seraphim Quintzel, you have some explaining to do," she said in her authoritative voice.**_

"_**It wasn't my fault, Mom," I said.**_

"_**You got three hours worth of after-school detention for fighting," she cut in. "How is that not your fault?"**_

"_**Because he called me the F-word!" I shouted before running to my room, slamming the door behind me. I was laughing quietly to myself as I snuck out the window. I knew my mother so well. All I had to do was play the F-word card, and I was off scot-free. And, no, it's not the F-word you're thinking of. This is a word, that begins with the letter F, and is a slanderous term often aimed at someone different from the norm. It was a term that had oftentimes sent my father into a violent rage, something he had passed down to me.**_

_**Once free and clear of the window, I made my way to the Paper Lantern, to see if I could have another nice little chat with Flamer. It wasn't until I got there that I realized that I didn't know his real name. So, hoping to see him at some point, I ordered some lo mein and waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, just when I was about to give up hope, I saw him, filling water glasses at occupied tables. I caught his attention and waved him over.**_

"_**What can I do for you tonight, Crazy?" he asked.**_

"_**You got a minute?" I asked.**_

"_**Let me go punch out for a break," he said, walking back into the kitchen. A couple of minutes later, he was back. "What's on your mind?"**_

"_**Something you said last night," I said nervously. "I've been thinking about it all day, and I think you're right. I think I really do need someone to talk to."**_

"_**And you're telling me this because…?" he asked, drawing the last syllable out.**_

"_**Because I was hoping you'd be able to help me find someone willing, and brave enough, to listen?" I asked somewhat sweetly.**_

"_**Have you tried the counselors at school?" he asked.**_

"_**No, thank you," I said, causing him to quirk a dark eyebrow. "I've spent the last six years in therapy, and my mother's a shrink. That's not quite the kind of person I was hoping for. I was thinking maybe a little less clinical, perhaps a little… friendlier?"**_

_**Flamer sighed. "I think I have a friend that can help," he said.**_

_**The next day at lunch, after I cleared what was becoming my usual table, I found myself sitting across from Layla Evans, the red-haired hippie chick from Flamer's table.**_

"_**Can I help you?" I asked, biting into my bologna sandwich.**_

"_**Warren said you wanted some help with something?" she asked politely.**_

"_**Warren?" I asked. "Who's Warren?"**_

"_**Warren Peace, your friend from the Paper Lantern," she said, raising one bright red eyebrow.**_

"_**Oh, him," I said. I guess he did have a name, as unfortunately similar to a ridiculously long Tolstoy novel as it was.**_

"_**Yeah," Layla said. "So what was it you needed help with?"**_

"_**I kinda… how do I put this…" I said, thinking. "It's like this." I waved a hand around my head. "I have all these memories in my head… bad ones. And I need someone to help me get through them. Mainly someone I can't hurt that can detain me. And I guess Warren thought you were up to the task."**_

"_**Have you tried the school counselors?" she asked. I shook my head.**_

"_**Warren asked the same thing," I said. "My mother's a shrink, and I've become a bit of an expert on dodging their questions. That, and most of them would take one look at my file and head for the opposite horizon. If you don't want to do it, Layla, you don't have to. I understand."**_

"_**Actually, I wouldn't mind listening," she said. "I just thought you might be better off with someone who knew what they were doing."**_

"_**I really don't need anyone to actively do anything, unless I hit a particularly bad memory," I said, taking a drink of my juice. "I just need someone to sit there and listen, maybe offer up a different perspective, and restrain me if it looks like I'm about to have an outburst, because mine tend to be violent and destructive."**_

"_**You seem to have thought this through," she said. I nodded. "I just have one question."**_

"_**Shoot," I said.**_

"_**How would you feel about somebody sitting in with us while you talk, someone indestructible and superstrong?"**_

"_**Are you talking about that Stronghold kid?" I asked, looking over at the table of her friends, all of whom were staring anxiously after her, save for Warren. When they saw me looking at them, they looked avidly away. Warren smirked at me, and I smiled toothily back at him.**_

"_**Yes, Will," she said. "Do you know him?" I shook my head.**_

"_**But I met his parents yesterday," I said. "They were there when I reported my father's escape."**_

"_**That must've been awkward," she said.**_

"_**Not as awkward as it was when I realized the Batman was there," I said. Her jaw dropped.**_

"_**The Batman was at Sky High?" she asked.**_

"_**Only for a few hours after school," I said. The bell rang and I stood to throw my trash away.**_

"_**So do you want to meet up after final bell?" she asked, following me. I shook my head.**_

"_**I have to let my mom know where I'll be," I said. "How's about you two meet me at the Paper Lantern after school?"**_

"_**Why the Paper Lantern?" she asked, following me to my locker.**_

"_**Because it's the only thing in this city that I know how to find," I said.**_

"_**Makes sense," she said with a shrug. She waved before heading to her own locker. "See you later!"**_

_**A few heads turned when people realized she was talking to me, but I just made my way to my next class, Mad Science.**_


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer - See Chapter 1.

Chapter 4

This is only the beginning…

"_Makes sense," she said with a shrug. She waved before heading to her own locker. "See you later!"_

_A few heads turned when people realized she was talking to me, but I just made my way to my next class, Mad Science._

After school, I ran home from the bus stop, jotted down a quick note to my mother about a 'study group with friends,' and was out the door again, quick as a shot. I made my way to The Paper Lantern, and quickly found Layla at a corner table full of people, each recognizable as being from Warren's lunch table. Nervously, I approached.

"Layla," I said. "I thought you were bringing a person, not a gaggle of them." They laughed nervously, and the black kid in orange stood, offering his hand.

"You must be Seraphim," he said. I nodded and shook his hand. "Ethan Jones."

"Pleasure to meet you, son of The Wave," I said. He seemed shocked that I knew of his father, who had been retired for ten years. "I was raised to know my enemy," I explained. Layla gasped. "Until recently, your parents _were _the enemy. And, by default, you all were too."

Ethan waved it off. "Nobody really has a say in how they're raised," he said, sitting.

"Yeah," said the tall, bleach blond boy. "I'm Zack Bright."

"Son of the Illuminator," I said with a nod. He nodded back.

"Magenta Pierson," said the black- and purple-haired girl next to Zack, not even looking at me.

"Daughter of Dragon," I said quietly, avoiding her eyes when she looked at me.

"And I'm Will," said the last, the brown-haired boy in red, white, and blue clothes.

"Son of The Commander and Jetstream," I said. "Tell me, do you all have monochromatic wardrobes?" They all looked at me strangely. "Hey, it's a viable question. Today was the third day of school, and you've each worn the same color clothes each day. Is that on purpose?"

They all looked at each other before laughing. "I think it's just a superperson thing," Ethan said.

"Yeah," Warren said, walking up with a tray of water glasses. "It's not like you don't do the same thing." He pointed to my 'Barney the Dinosaur' shirt, then my earrings, which were big circles, one green, one purple.

"Sure, but I try to spice it up," I said, pointing to my neon orange tennis shoes. The others shrugged. "I guess I just never noticed it until I was surrounded by superpeople."

"That's right," Layla said. "You're a first generation. What was it like?"

"Different," I said, "that's for sure. But can we start this somewhere not in the public eye, preferably without any fragile objects nearby?"

They nodded, and, after a brief discussion, we headed to Will's house, minus Warren, who had to work.

"Won't your parents have issues with me knowing where you live?" I asked as we walked down the street. Will shrugged.

"They gave Warren a key," he said.

"And what exactly did his dad do?" I asked. There was a moment of silence as they decided whether or not to tell me.

"I thought you knew about all of our parents," Ethan said.

"Sure," I said, "but his dad played for the same team as mine, so to speak, so my parents didn't really think it was as important."

"He torched half of the city before my parents took him down," Will said softly, his eyes on the pavement. I shrugged.

"That's not so bad, considering," I said. Will looked up sharply. "My dad developed a habit of blowing up hospitals. He took the best thing that could've happened to that evil city, and drove it insane. My mother was a fence-hopper who couldn't decided between good and evil. But she was madly, obsessively in love with my clinically insane father. Insanity runs in my family. Are you sure they'll accept me?"

"Of course they will," Will said. "Actually, my parents like you."

"What?" I said.

"They said you seemed like a good person who simply had a past," he said. "They're superheroes, not communists."

"Hey, not all communists are evil," I said. They all looked strangely at me. "Well they're not. Have any of you read Marx's book?" They all shook their heads. "Then don't diss communism until you do."

"Of course," Layla said. "We didn't realize you had such a strong opinion on communism."

"It's not just communism," I said. "I hate racism in any form."

"Reasonable," Ethan said. "I feel the same way about racism."

"Really?" I asked. He nodded. "Then do you believe that it's okay for there to be all-black colleges, but not all-white? Do you believe it's okay a Black Entertainment channel, but not a White Entertainment channel? Or how about Black History Month? If we're all equal, shouldn't there be a White History Month? Or Asian? Or Native American? Or Indian? What about the Rusians?" Ethan backed away slightly, as if he were afraid. "Oh, I'm sorry. I don't want to alienate you. Any of you. I just get carried away sometimes."

"We all do," Layla said, nodding. "Don't we, guys?"

"Uh, sure," Zack said. "I mean, yeah. It happens all the time. Sometimes I start talking, and, man, I just can't stop."

"Like now, for instance," Magenta said sardonically.

We took a turn, and, suddenly, the city fell away to quiet suburbs. I had seen the same thing the previous two nights walking home from the Paper Lantern, but it still got to me. I stopped walking and took a deep breath.

"You okay?" Layla asked once they'd gone a few more paces without me.

"It's just that, after being… where I've been, it never gets old seeing the bright blue sky, the trees, the grass, even the dirt. It's the most amazing feeling in the world." I took another deep breath through my nose. "Can you smell the freedom?" I took my eyes off of the sky and looked at them when they didn't say anything, and was surprised to see pity in their eyes. "What?"

"What happened to you to make you so grateful?" Magenta asked. My smile fell.

"Too much," I said quietly. "Too much."

We were silent the rest of the way to Will's house. His mother met us at the door and, as she spoke, led us through the house to the kitchen.

"Oh, hello Will, kids," she said, pulling a thing of muffins out of the oven. "I thought you said you were studying at the Paper Lantern."

"We're not really studying tonight, Mom," Will said. Mrs. Stronghold pulled the oven mitts off and gave him a stern look.

"As the third day of school, I figured as much," she said. "What's going on?"

"Maybe I can explain, Mrs. Stronghold," I said. To her credit, she didn't seem shocked to see me. "Seraphim Quintzel. Your son and his friends have agreed to help me dissect my past, which will hopefully tighten a few of the loose screws in my head."

"It's great that you're looking to others for help, Seraphim," she said, "but don't you think you'd be better off with someone who knew what they were doing?"

"With all due respect, Mrs. Stronghold," I said, "the professionals are part of the problem." She nodded.

"Well, if you're all sure you want to do this," she said. I turned around to face the others, and was surprised to see them all nodding their heads.

"If you're certain, there's one thing you need to do before we begin," I said. "I need you to go wherever this is going down, and get rid of anything and everything breakable. No doubt I'll lose control more than once tonight, which is where you, Will, come in handy. If you see me starting to shake, or if you see anything in the room start to shake, I need you to restrain me, understood?"

They nodded, looks of deep sincerity on their faces, and left to Will's room, to clear it of breakables, with the promise to retrieve me when they were done. In the mean time, Mrs. Stronghold kept me company.

"So what is it that you can do?" she asked as I helped her mix some cookie batter.

"Minor Telekinesis, as well as control over a space pocket," I said.

"That must come in handy," she said.

"Only if I can get to it," I said, causing her to look up from what she was doing. "I can't telekinetically move anything without using my hands."

"I'm sure you'll get past that," she said.

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe I'll top out at this."

"I'm sure a lot of telekinetics have felt that way," Mrs. Stronghold said. "But they didn't give up. And you shouldn't, either. If you do, you'll never find out whether you can do it or not."

At this point, Layla walked into the room. "Everything's ready," she said. I nodded.

"Thank you for the pep talk, Mrs. Stronghold," I said.

"Any time, Seraphim," she said, smiling.

Layla led me from the kitchen, through the living room, and up the stairs. There were four doors in the hallway, the closest of which had a pile of items next to it.

"In here," she said, motioning towards the door.

"Is this okay?" Will asked as soon as he saw me walk through the door. The room was empty, save for a bed, some chairs, a dresser, a weight bench, and some posters on the walls.

"The posters need to come down," I said. "I'd rather not send one of those tacks through one of you."

Without a word, Will removed all of the posters and tacks. "Is everything going to be okay this close?" he asked when he was done. I nodded.

"Line of sight," I said, tapping my temple. "Shall we begin then?"


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

Chapter 5

_The truth comes out…_

_Without a word, Will removed all of the posters and tacks. "Is everything going to be okay this close?" he asked when he was done. I nodded._

"_Line of sight," I said, tapping my temple. "Shall we begin then?"_

Will sat on the edge of his bed, and I sat on the floor next to him, in case there was a need for him to restrain me, and everyone else chose one of the chairs so that we were all in a circle. It reminded me of the one group therapy session I'd gone to in Asylum, and I said as much.

"Why was there only one?" Ethan asked, none of them batting an eyelash at the fact that I had been in Asylum.

"I lost my temper and they decided I wasn't ready for it yet," I said. "Before they could try again, my mother was declared mentally fit enough to take care of me, and then I discovered my powers."

"So, uh, why were you in Asylum in the first place?" Zack asked.

"Maybe I should start from the beginning," I said. They all nodded.

"Well, as you all know my father is the Joker and my mother is Harleen Quintzel, a.k.a. Harley Quinn. They met during my father's first stint in Arkham, where she was his shrink. She ended up falling crazy in love with him, but he was just plain crazy. She helped him break out the first time, though I've never been told how, and, about a year later, I was born.

"I've been told, that most of the time, my parents used one of my dad's flunkies as a nanny."

"So, your parents would've rather torn the world apart than spend time with their newborn daughter?" Layla asked.

"At that point, I wasn't really a high priority in their lives," I said.

"That's sick," Magenta said. I nodded.

"It went on like that until I was four," I said. "I never got used to any of my 'nannies,' because, as I'm sure you all know, the Joker has a tendency to kill his henchmen. I wasn't allowed stuffed animals or a security blanked, because Dad thought they'd make me weak. Once I turned four, Dad began teaching me his ways. By he time I was five, I knew fie different ways to kill a man with my bare hands. When I turned six, my mother got me a dog. Two months later, for my father's attention, I killed it. My parents were both ecstatic."

"You killed your dog?" Will asked. I nodded.

"Drowned it in the bath tub with my dad watching over me."

"What kind of dog was it?" Layla asked, horrorstruck.

"He was a Great Dane named Barney," I said, looking down. "And it didn't stop there. Over the next four years, my father used me to thin the herd, so to speak. Up until we got caught, there were no records of my existence. I didn't get a birth certificate or social security number until I was ten years old. Whenever I would leave whatever hideout we were at, I had to wear a wig and facial prosthetics so that nobody could even guess at my parentage. And, as I said before, I was coached from a young age on all of your parents. I was nine when my mother got captured; I didn't bat an eyelash. When I was ten, dad and I were robbing a bank when we were captured. It was my first trip outside without the fake hair and face."

"How did you get captured?" Will asked. I looked up from my clenched hands to see them all staring at me, enthralled in my history.

"We were making a fun little mess of the place when the Batman showed up," I said. "Managed to string us both up with some kind of unbreakable wire."

"You don't seem mad about it," Zack said. I grimaced.

"At the time, I was furious," I said, clenching and unclenching my fists. "I cussed him up and down with every dirty word I knew, and a few I'd made up. Dad just laughed. The authorities showed up shortly after the Batman stringed us up, and carted us off: Dad to Arkham, me to Asylum." At this point, I was torn from the memories by someone roughly grabbing my wrists. My eyes followed the arms before landing on Will's sad face. I was surprised to see that the shaking in my hands was so violent that it was causing his arms to vibrate. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, counted to ten, and released the breath. I did this three times before the shaking finally stopped and Will let go of me, breathing his own sigh of relief.

"Sorry about that," I said, rubbing my wrists. "I guess I'm not as over it as I thought I was. But, in my mind, I know that event was a good thing. It kept me from remaining the monster I was."

"That's some heavy self-loathing," Magenta said. I shook my head.

"I don't hate what I am now," I said. "I hate what I was then, what I would've become if the Batman hadn't interfered. I was a killing machine by the age of six. The first man I killed was one of my father's. at the age of six, I was able to not only subdue him, but I strangled him with my bare hands. I literally choked the life out of him. As I said, then I was pissed. Now I'm just relieved. But I went through a lot to get to where I am now."

"So what's Asylum like?" Zack asked.

"Horrible," I said, looking down at my hands and imagining the blood flowing over them. "I wasn't the only murderer there, but I was the only one of such magnitude. But as far as they knew, the only murder and mayhem I had caused was that at the bank. They soon learned not to mess with me."

"How?" Ethan asked. I shoved my hands into Will's confused face, but he got the message and grabbed my wrists.

"The first week I was there, one of the 'big, bad guys,' thought he'd show me who was boss in that place. I'd had a sharpened toothbrush in my pocked in preparation for such an event. He thought he'd push me around between him and his little flunkies to rough me up a bit. He had no way of knowing that it was just like one of my favorite games my father and I would play."

"Your father would push you around between him and his flunkies?" Layla asked.

"It had started out as a training exercise," I said. "See how fast I could whip a knife out under difficult situations. It turned into a game, to see which of them would get stabbed first. So that's what I treated this event like. I let them throw me around for a bit, let them think that they were getting their point across, and whipped out my toothbrush and stabbed the ringleader in the eye. It wasn't until then that the guards came rushing in and dragged me away to solitary." The shaking in my hands, by now, returned in full force.

"Why did they wait so long?" Layla asked.

"Apparently beatings like that were common things, and the guards didn't want to deal with it," I said.

"You didn't have your own cell?" Ethan asked. "I though Asylum prided itself on such aspects that it shared with Arkham."

"They did," I said. "But, just like any ordinary prison, they have solitary confinement, for those that acted out, which meant no meals with the others, and no rec room time at all."

"Rec room?" Zack asked. I was glad for their technical questions. They kept me from getting emotionally into my story, which gave me time to calm down.

"The rec room was like one in any prison," I said. "It had a television, some board games, a foosball table, and some bookshelves. They also had a book cart that would go from cell to cell, to give us criminals something to do in our spare time. They had a mail cart, too, but I only ever got three letters in all six years. The first was from my mother, reprimanding me for getting caught. The second was from the Batman, or that was how it was signed, at least."

"The Batman wrote you in prison?" Will asked, still holding onto my wrists, which had slowed considerably in their shaking.

"As far as I know, I was the only one out of all of those that he'd caught that he ever wrote to," I said. "He said that he was sorry for the way that I'd been raised, and that he hoped he never had to see me on the wrong side of the law again. I didn't bother with a reply. The third was from the authorities, and I got it about a week before I was released. It stated that my mother had finished with her therapy and was back in her right mind, and that she would be coming to retrieve me. It was in that short week that I discovered the space pocket and my powers."

"How did you discover them?" Ethan asked, pulling out a notebook.

"I'm not really sure how I discovered the space pocket. I just remember always having that feeling, like I was being followed. Turned out that that feeling, which had haunted me day and night for as long as I could remember, had been the space pocket, just waiting for me to find it," I said. My hands, at this point, had stopped shaking, but Will held on, just to be safe. "The telekinesis had come to me when they were taking me from my cell to deliver me to my mother. I had forgotten a journal in my cell that I really didn't want anybody reading. I also didn't want to ask the guards to take me back, lest they take the gesture as me not quite being ready for the outside world. I took one last look at my cell, and was surprised to see the book shoot out to me. I though I was going seriously cuckoo in the bananas."

"Cuckoo in the bananas?" Layla asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, you know," I said, "Bonkers? Crazy? Loony? 'Round the bend? One crayon short of a full box?"

"Uh… huh," she said. I looked out of the window and was surprised to see that the sky was already darkening.

"It would appear we've been here for longer than I've thought," I said, pointing out the window. They all sighed, but I noticed that Magenta's was the only one of relief. I didn't have time to analyze it as everyone stood and Will offered me his hand."Come on," he said. "I'll walk you home."

I took the hand, and he helped me up. I said good by to everyone else, who all seemed to be sticking around for a discussion. As Will and I walked down the street, I brought up the topic of Magenta.

"Magenta doesn't seem to like me," I said bluntly.

"I wondered if you picked up on that," Will said.

"What did I ever do to her?" I asked.

"It's not anything you did," he said. "Her dad was still in Gotham General when your dad blew it up."

"Ah…" I said quietly. "But, my dad did Layla's dad in too, but she can meet my eyes."

"Well… first off, Layla's quicker to forgive than Magenta is. Secondly, Layla actually had time with her dad. Magenta's dad didn't even know she was going to be born.""I see," I said quietly. "That makes a lot of sense now. But what can I do to show her that I'm not like my dad… at least not anymore?"

"You should probably just keep doing what you did tonight," he said. "By the time we learn what all you've been through, maybe then she'll have warmed up to you."

"Sounds like a plan," I said. "So why are you guys so nice to me? I mean, I've seen shows about high school. Isn't there supposed to be a different drama every day, with bullies and mean girls around every corner?"

"Hollywood exaggerates," Will said as we turned down my street. "It's really not nearly that bad. Even if it was, they probably wouldn't mess with you."

"Huh," I said, shrugging my shoulders. I stopped dead when my house came into view.

"What's wrong?" he asked, taking in the shocked look that must've been on my face.

"There're too many people," I said, nodding towards my house, in which every light was lit.

"Should we go see what's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm gonna check," I said. "If I'm not back in five minutes, go on home. If I don't contact you by the time school gets out tomorrow, go to Principal Powers, okay?" Will nodded, a look of comprehension on his face.

"And Will?" I asked, a little quieter. The look on his face melted into something else, something I didn't recognize. I took a deep, mentally-stabilizing breath before continuing. "Should the second instance come into play, I want you to promise me that, if our paths should cross in the future, you won't acknowledge any feelings other than hate for me, okay?"

"What do you mean?" Will asked. "I don't hate you."

"If I go in there, and I'm not out by tomorrow, it'll mean that that's my father and some goons inside, and that my mother's turned," I said. "In that case, visibly acknowledging any feelings other than hate, or something akin to it, could be detrimental to you health, the health of your family members, and the health of your friends. So, please, make me that promise."

Will looked at me with what I swear was a look of fierce loyalty, which I felt ashamed at how unearned it was, and said, "I promise, Seraphim. And I'll make the others promise, too."

"Thank you, Will," I said, and I could feel the tears welling up. Before they could fall, I turned away. "Remember, five minutes."

I didn't look back to see his response, even to see if he was going to wait. Instead, I snuck over to my house, my home, for all intents and purposes, and peeked through a living room window. My mother was smiling from ear to ear as she spoke to a tall, broad man in a purple coat with his back to me. He turned, and I caught the recognition in his painted face before he headed for the door. I turned and ran.

Will was waiting in the spot where I'd left him, watching his watch. "We have to go," I said as I ran to him, causing him to look up. "Now."

"Where?" he asked, grasping the gravity of the situation.

"As far as we can get, as fast as we can," I said. He nodded before scooping me up in his arms. We took off, and my father, who had followed me, giggled as he watched us fly away.

"We have to warn your parents," I shouted over the wind. "He saw you, I know, and if he recognized you, he'll find any weaknesses your parents have and exploit them to get to you, to get to me. We have to warn them." Will nodded before changing direction. Within minutes we landed in his yard and rushed through the back door to find his parents sitting together on the sofa, watching television.

"Are you two alright?" Mr. Stronghold asked, at the same time Mrs. Stronghold asked, "What's wrong?"

"There's been a slight… complication," I said.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

Chapter Six

"_Are you two alright?" Mr. Stronghold asked, at the same time Mrs. Stronghold asked, "What's wrong?"_

"_There's been a slight… complication," I said._

"You can stay here if you need to," Mrs. Stronghold said after I explained what had happened. I shook my head.

"Thank you for the offer, Mrs. Stronghold," I said, "but I don't want to put you in that kind of danger."

"You do realize that I'm rather invulnerable to harm, right?" Mr. Stronghold said.

"But not completely, "I said. "I know my father. He'll find a way to hurt you, even if it's through someone else. It's what he does, and he's very good at it. He exploits weaknesses, and I don't want that to happen to you."

"Perhaps just for tonight," Mrs. Stronghold said. "We could talk to Principal Powers for you, and you could get a good night's sleep."

"I still don't like it," I said. "If my father was to find out -"

"It would make me feel better," Mrs. Stronghold said. "This way I know that you at least have a place to sleep." I sighed."If you're going to put it that way," I said, "I guess I really can't refuse. But only for tonight. I do refuse to endanger you any further than that, though."

"I can understand that," Mr. Stronghold said before turning to his wife. "Josie, honey, why don't you go get the guest bedroom ready while I call Veronica?"

"Sure thing, dear," Mrs. Stronghold said, leaning in to give him a peck on the lips before she headed up the stairs. Their sheer normalcy, to me, at least, was staggering. I'd never seen my parents act like that. But then, I was a bastard, so maybe that was part of it. My mother may be madly in love with my father, but I'm pretty sure he only puts up with her because of what she could do. Will nudged me, as I had apparently been spacing off, and I turned to look at him.

"Wanna see the rest of the house?" he asked. I shrugged.

"Sure," I said. A boyish grin overtook his face, and he grabbed my hand and led me through the house, from one room to the next. The rest of his friends had already left, and we ended up talking on the couch in the living room.

"So, when was it that you realized that what you'd been doing was wrong?" he asked after a few pleasantries.

"I had been in Asylum for three years or so," I said. "Up until then, I'd thoroughly enjoyed everything that I'd done. I was proud of it." I scoffed. "But, then my therapist was murdered. Stabbed by a mugger outside of his apartment. That's what made me realize how bad the things I'd done were."

"That sucks," Will said simply. I shrugged.

"It does," I agreed. "But it was what made me realize I didn't want to be a monster.""Seraphim?" Mrs. Stronghold said, walking into the room. Will and I both looked up at her in response. "Your room's ready, if you wanted to get some sleep. And I could wash your cloths for you if you wanted to take a shower."

"That would be great, Mrs. Stronghold," I said, standing up to follow her, "but I keep a few changes of clothes in my space pocket." With one look at Will, I followed Mrs. Stronghold up the stairs to the door that held the guest bedroom.

"Thanks, Mrs. Stronghold," I said. "For everything.""It's no problem," she said, a look I didn't understand, but had seen many times that night, on her face. It wasn't the same look Will had given me earlier, but it was still there. "We're happy to help any friend of Will's."

With a nod, I escaped into the room and sighed. It was strange, feeling human after being a monster my entire life. I collapsed on the bed, contemplating my existence. Or, perhaps, the reasoning behind it. I knew by now that I wasn't on this green Earth to kill people. Injure, yeah, of course. That went along with being a superhero. But kill? I don't even think I could anymore. I don't think I have what it takes. Unless it came down to a life or death situation, where it was me or them. I was pretty sure I could do that.

With those thoughts on my mind, I headed for the shower. Showering was an easy, mindless task, which I did mindlessly. When I was drying myself off with a towel I'd found in the cabinet, there was a knock on the door.

"Just a sec!" I said, finishing drying off my arm before I wrapped the towel around myself and opened the door to see Will with a hand in the air, as if he was preparing to knock again. His mouth ajar, he slowly lowered his hand as he stood there, a towel over his shoulder, looking at me. Not really ogling, just looking. It took me blushing and looking away for him to restart his brain.

"Uh… hey," he said. "Just… just wondering when you were gonna be finished."

"Um… I'm done now," I said, waving a hand behind myself, and my clothes jumped into the space pocket. He stepped aside, and I left the room. "See you in the morning." He nodded and closed the door, and I headed back the room that I would be sleeping in for the night.

I closed the door, leaned against it, and sighed. It was the sigh that made me realize what was happening. I, the daughter of one of the worst villains in the world, had a crush on the son of, not one, but two superheroes. Not really knowing what to do about it, I pulled an old sleep shirt out of my space pocket, threw it on, and tunneled into the covers on the large bed. Though my mind was whirling with this new development, the emotions that had wreaked havoc on me today finally took their toll, and I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

I awoke in the morning to someone shaking my shoulder. Lost in a dream as I'd been, and without recognizing my surroundings, I grabbed a knife from my space pocket and bolted up, pressing it to the person's throat. The person gulped, and the previous night came flooding back to me. I dropped the knife on the bed once I realized that the person who'd woke me was a now pale Will.

"Oh Gods, Will, I'm sorry," I said as he rubbed his throat. "I didn't realize where I was."

"No harm done," he said. "Mom said breakfast was ready. You might want to put that away." He pointed to the knife. I shrugged sheepishly before moving it back into my space pocket.

"Old habits, and all that," I said.

"Like I said, no harm done," he said. "Just come on down when you're ready."

He left, and I returned the knife to my space pocket before ruffling through it to find something to wear. I finally settled on a black tank top, blue jean shorts, and a green flip flop and a purple one. I grabbed a brush from the pocket and ran it through my hair before putting the hair up in a pony tail and the brush back into the pocket. Satisfied with my appearance, I made the bed and ran my towel from the previous night to the hamper in the bathroom before heading downstairs, where the Strongholds were sitting around a kitchen table loaded up with enough eggs, sausage, bacon, and toast to feed an army.

"Why so much food for four people?" I asked Mrs. Stronghold as I sat between her and Will.

"Because there won't be just the four of us," Mr. Stronghold said. "Your new guardian will be joining us."

"Guardian?" I asked. "What do you mean, guardian?"

"Well, you don't want to stay here with us, and you can't go home," Mrs. Stronghold said, "so Principal Powers spoke with the Council, and they have assigned you a new guardian until you are old enough to legally take care of yourself."

"Who?" I asked.

"Me," came a voice from behind me.

There, in the doorway, standing next to Principal Powers, was Bruce Wayne.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

Chapter Seven

"_Well, you don't want to stay here with us, and you can't go home," Mrs. Stronghold said, "so Principal Powers spoke with the Council, and they have assigned you a new guardian until you are old enough to legally take care of yourself."_

"_Who?" I asked._

"_Me," came a voice from behind me._

_There, in the doorway, standing next to Principal Powers, was Bruce Wayne._

"Excuse me?" I said, blinking up at him stupidly.

"I'm to be your legal guardian," Mr. Wayne said.

"But… but… I can't leave Maxville," I said, "and you shouldn't, either. You're the only one that's ever caught him, and nobody on our side knows him better than I do. We need to stay where he is."

"And we will," he said. "Mr. and Mrs. Stronghold here sold me a wonderful house down the road, where I can live without fear of Gotham's underworld with my recently inherited goddaughter." At the last bit, he eyed me.

"So, even though everyone at school already knows who I am, the neighbors will be lead to believe that I'm your goddaughter, and you moved to Maxville for safety purposes?" I asked. Mr. Wayne nodded. "That's diabolical. But it seems sound. Now, tell me. How are we going to capture my parents?"

"_We _are not going to be doing anything," Mr. Wayne said. "_You_ will focus on school, while _I_ focus on your parents."

"No," I said. "You won't be able to catch him without me."

"What makes you think that?" Mr. Wayne asked. Everyone else except for Will, who was staring at his food, followed the conversation as one would a tennis match.

"There is nobody on this green Earth, my mother included, that knows my father as I do," I said. "He trained me to be just like him, and he trained me well. But his insanity didn't take hold on me, at least, not entirely, or else I'd be there with him. I'm your best shot at figuring out how his twisted little mind works, Mr. Wayne."

"School still comes first," Mr. Wayne said. "And call me Bruce."

"Alright," I said. "I can agree with that. So, what are we going to do with the Strongholds?"

"Don't you worry about us," Mrs. Stronghold said. "We've dealt with villains before."

"Not like him," Bruce and I said at the same time. He nodded towards me, giving me the floor.

"I know he got a good look at Will last night, and not everyone in this family is invulnerable," I said, looking pointedly at the Mrs. "You need to be on your guard now every second of every day until he's caught. I'm not saying you need to live in fear, but, when it comes to my father, paranoia is your friend. I fear I've made the three of you targets, simply from my request to Warren night before last. But I'm going to tell the others the same thing. I don't want to be seen outside of school with anyone besides Bruce, because he's already a target." The Strongholds, all three of them, nodded.

"We should be safe at school," I said, before adding as an afterthought, "unless he decides to take the whole thing down. But I can't think of any ways he can get someone up there to spy."

"What about you?" Will asked quietly, looking up from his meal for the first time.

"What about me?" I asked.

"What are you gonna do for your own safety?" he asked, his eyes shining up at me. "You've got all these plans and restrictions for everyone else's safety, but haven't once mentioned your own."

"In my father's eyes, I'm either enemy number one or two," I said. "I'm not sure there's much of anything that I _can_ do."

Will had a pensive look on his face and, as silence descended upon the room, Bruce and Principal Powers moved to the table to get some breakfast.

"Last night, you'd said that until the day you were caught you'd always worn a wig when away from the hideout," Will said.

"Will, you're a genius!" I exclaimed, so excited that I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He blushed, but I busied myself with going through my space pocket, searching for the right thing. "Aha!" I said, pulling a short blonde wig from the pocket. "This should work!"

I pulled a few pins out of the pocket, turned my ponytail into a tight bun, and pinned the wig into place, before taking the last bite of my breakfast. When I looked up, flipping the synthetic blonde hair out of my face, I found that everyone else was looking at me with a mixture of amazement and pity. "What?" I asked.

"How did you do that so fast?" Will asked, having recovered from his blush.

"Lots of practice," I said. Mrs. Stronghold shook her head, banishing the pity from her face.

"Alright," she said. "You kids go get ready for school. We're going to start making plans."

"But-" I began, only to be interrupted by Mr. Stronghold.

"No, Seraphim," he said, in an 'I'm a dad, and my word is law' voice. "You and your guardian have already agreed that school comes first. After that, I'm sure he'll fill you in on what he feels you need to know."

"Yes, sir," I said, pushing my chair away from the table. "Thank you… for everything."

Without waiting for a response, I left the room. A few minutes later, Will left the kitchen and found me sitting on the sofa, hugging my knees, glaring at the fake hair.

"Hey," he said, sitting next to me and wrapping his arms around my shoulders in a one-sided hug. "It's gonna be okay."

I was silent for a moment, a little shocked at the idea of someone holding me.

"I'm scared, Will," I finally said quietly. So this was what fear felt like. It wasn't the same kind of fear from the other night in the alley behind the Paper Lantern. Those men could only hurt my body. My father could tear my mind and soul apart. But there was more to it than that.

"You've got the Batman with you now," Will said. "You'll be fine."

"You don't understand," I said, the tears running down my cheeks hardly registering. "It's not me I'm worried about. At least, not so much. For the first time in my life I have people that are nice to me, people I consider friends. And now he shows up. Gods. He ruins everything!"

A crash brought me out of my ranting as the coffee table in front of me lifted itself about an inch off of the ground before falling, the glass in it shattering. The adults rushed into the room to find Will and I still sitting on the couch, his arms still around me, staring at the wreckage that had once been a coffee table.

"Are you kids okay?" Mrs. Stronghold asked.

"We're fine," I said, shaking off Will's arms to start picking up the glass. "I'm sorry about your table.

"What happened?" she asked, moving to help me.

"I… I lost control of my powers," I said.

"You weren't shaking," Will said, also moving to help as Mr. Stronghold brought us a trashcan. "You weren't moving at all. You said you always shook when you got close to losing control."

I looked up at him, shocked enough to actually stop moving. "I wasn't shaking?" I asked. He shook his head. "But there's no way. I have to move my hands to use my telekinesis."

"And I didn't have any powers when I started Sky High," he said as I once again began putting the glass into the can. "But Nurse Spex said that super kids pull off crazy stuff under stress. Maybe that revelation was all you needed."

"Hmm…" I said, thinking. "Hold on a sec. You may have something there."

Stopping what I was doing, I tried to bring forth the emotions I had been experiencing not long before. As the rage at my father came forth, the glass in my hand began to shake, before raising into the air and moving to the trashcan. As I the feeling wore out, I lost control of the glass and it fell into the can.

"That was amazing!" Will said, putting more glass into the can.

"I knew you could do it," Mrs. Stronghold said proudly. "Now, you two go get your books and head to the bus stop. I'll finish cleaning this up."

"I really am sorry about your table," I said as Will helped me stand.

"Think nothing of it," Mrs. Stronghold said. "I live with two superstrong men. You've no idea how many household items get broken on a daily basis here."

"If you're sure…" I said, letting the sentence drop off into nothing.

"I'm sure," she said. "Now get your books and head to the bus stop."

I waited at the door for Will, my own books in my space pocket. Once he was ready, we headed to the bus stop, unaware of the eyes following us.

"Are you alright?" he asked as we walked.

"I'll be fine," I said. "Moving that glass took a lot of emotion, that's all. I'm sure it'll get easier as I exercise it."


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: See Chapter One

Chapter Eight

_I waited at the door for Will, my own books in my space pocket. Once he was ready, we headed to the bus stop, unaware of the eyes following us._

"_Are you alright?" he asked as we walked._

"_I'll be fine," I said. "Moving that glass took a lot of emotion, that's all. I'm sure it'll get easier as I exercise it."_

Layla met us at the bus stop while we waited, and the first words out of her mouth were, "What happened to your hair?"

"I'll tell you at lunch," I said, my eyes darting wildly back and forth across the street.

"What's happened?" she asked, looking from Will to me and back again.

Will, noticing my erratic, paranoid behavior, simply said, "We'll tell everyone at lunch."Nodding, and picking up on the paranoia rushing off of me, said nothing. The bus arrived in the midst of our silence, and we climbed on, continuing our silence as I sat in the back seat and Will slid in next to me. Layla took the seat opposite us.

Zack, Magenta, and Ethan, noticing our gravity, moved back to join us at the next stop.

"What's going on?" Zack asked as I watched out the window, looking for even the slightest hint of my father or one of his henchmen, and Will told him what we'd told Layla.

A sigh of relief left my lips once we were in the air.

The morning passed in much of a blur. If anyone else noticed the change in my appearance, nobody mentioned it to me. I did, however, notice a lot of whispers about myself, and the radius of emptiness around me was slowly diminishing. Nobody sat next to me unless there was no other option, but people had begun to walk a little closer to me in the halls. It wasn't by much, and a person of lesser paranoia wouldn't have noticed it, but the fact was still there.

Despite what I'd said about my father's inability to spy on us at school, I was still keeping my guard up. If Royal Pain had been able to get flunkies into the school, then I'm sure he could find a way.

Psychic Defense was a nightmare. As emotionally exhausted as I was from the morning and the previous night, I didn't stand a chance of keeping Clairvoyant out of my head.

_:You haven't been practicing,: _her voice said in my head.

_:Forgive me for not doing my homework,: _I thought back sarcastically. _:I had quite a bit on my plate.:_

_:I see that,: _she said. _:And I must commend you for seeking the help of strangers. It's a tough thing for anyone to do, let alone someone with as much to hide as you.:_

_:Thanks, I think,: _I thought. _:I'll work harder on finding something to use as my walls.:_

My head was silent, and I spent the rest of the class thinking of what to use as my walls.

I received a shock when I got to lunch and found everyone at the table except for Will.

"Where's Will?" I asked as I sat on the end of the table next to Layla.

"He got called away during Mad Science," Layla said with a shrug.

"What's with the hair?" Warren asked. It was then that I noticed Blondie mysteriously sitting on the other side of the cafeteria, glaring at me through puffy eyes. Ignoring it for now, I focused on answering Warren's question.

"I'm kinda sorta in hiding," I said, looking down at the table. "As you all know, my father has escaped from Arkham. Well, last night, when Will walked me home, I found out that my mother had switched sides again. So, yeah. If any of you see me in public without a wig on before they've been caught, I want you to walk the other way, got it?"

They nodded, obviously having already heard something along those lines from Will.

Layla's cell phone rang, and her face paled as she read the message. Without a word, she handed the phone to me. Confused, I read the message.

Pass this on to Seraphim.

He's got Mom, Bruce is on his way to get you.

- Will.

I handed Layla her phone numbly, before standing from the table, as if in a dream. Ignoring their questions, I slowly walked out of the cafeteria. Once on the other side of the door, I let out the pain and rage in the only way I knew how. I screamed. Loud and long, I screamed, falling to my knees. I heard steps rushing toward me, and saw sandal-clad feet between the fingers on my face. I heard someone calling my name, but couldn't think of anything but Mrs. Stronghold. That sweet, innocent woman, who'd believed the best of me, despite my past, and wanted nothing but the best for me, was at this moment in the hands of a mad man. No, not a mad man, _the_ mad man. The only one that mattered. The only one that had ever mattered. Something next to me shattered, but I was lost in my mind as I screamed. Another scream joined mine as something else shattered, and panicked voices filled my ears as I continued to scream. Finally, a calm voice that I almost recognized filled my mind, and I slipped off into nothingness.

I awoke some indeterminable time later, in a white room that smelled of cleaning agent. Something was missing, and I couldn't quite remember why I was sitting slumped in a desk. When I looked to my right, I saw the Batman sitting next to me.

"Gah!" I said intelligibly, jumping slightly and knocking myself and the desk to the floor.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his mask sitting on the desk in front of him.

"'M fine," I said, standing and trying to right the desk with a wave of my hand, but it didn't move. "What the…" I tried it again, but, since it still didn't move, I bent to right it the good old fashioned way. "What's going on?" I asked. "Why can't I use my telekinesis? And where on Earth is my space pocket?"

"You can't use your telekinesis or feel your space pocket because the detention room neutralizes all powers," he said.

"Why am I in the detention room?" I asked. "What happened?"

"You lost control of everything," he said, drawing a gasp from me. "The only way we could stop things around you from shattering was to knock you out and bring you in here."

"I didn't hurt anyone, did I?" I asked, horrified.

"One of your friends, Ethan, was a little too close to you when anything mildly breakable began to shatter," Bruce began. "But he's with a healer now, and they said his eyes'll be better than before once they were done with him."

"His eyes?" I asked. "I shattered his glasses, didn't I?" At this point I was looking down at the floor.

"Yes," Bruce said. "But, like I said, he'll be okay. I've even offered to pay the school for the damage to the lockers that you exploded."

"How did anyone get close enough to knock me out?" I asked, grateful that only one person was hurt, and they were already on their way to being better than before.

"Miss Johnson, your Psychic Defense teacher, went into your mind and shut you down," he said. "It's not something she likes to do, but there was no other way of getting through to you."

"I'm glad she did it before I hurt anyone else," I said, suddenly remembering why I'd lost control. "Now, what exactly happened to Mrs. Stronghold?"

"Her husband heard a scream from the living room," Bruce said. "But, by the time they got there, the room was empty save for a bloodstained note pinned to the sofa with a knife."

"What did it say?" I asked.

"'Bring me my daughter, and she might live,'" Bruce recited. I swore.

"Well, there's only one thing to do," I said.

"No," Bruce said. "We can't let you go back to him."

"Well, no, not just send me back to him," I said. "Send me back to him with Miss Johnson tracking my mind. Once we get to their headquarters, you, Mr. Stronghold, and Will come swooping in, and I'll stick Mrs. Stronghold into my space pocket."

"That's a good plan," Bruce said, thinking. "But I do have one question."

"Shoot," I said.

"Have you ever put a living being in your pocket?" he asked.

"No," I said honestly. "But that's my last ditch effort, if it's the only way to get her out. And you know he won't let her live once he gets me."


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

Chapter Nine

_"That's a good plan," Bruce said, thinking. "But I do have one question."_

_"Shoot," I said._

_"Have you ever put a living being in your pocket?" he asked._

_"No," I said honestly. "But it's the only way to get her out. And you know he won't let her live once he gets me."_

"Now, run the plan by me again?" Will asked as I threw a few extra rounds into my pocket for the 9mm currently residing under the purple coat I'd worn on the first day.

"I get to the hideout, with Miss Johnson 'hitching a ride' in my brain, so to speak, and, once she's got a location, the three of you come to our rescue."

"And if she can't get the location out of you?" he asked.

"Then I do my best to get your mother out anyways," I said. "No matter the cost."

Looking at me oddly, he swept me up in a hug. "Be safe," he whispered, burying his face in my neck for a moment before letting me go. "And get my mom out of there."

"I promise you, Will," I said, "I do everything in my power to bring your mother back to you."

"Thank you," he said. "Now go, before we start getting mushy." I laughed nervously before beginning the walk back to my mother's house. The walk took less time than I'd expected, and the house was dark. Taking a deep breath, and steeling myself, I pushed the door open. It was unlocked, and swung wide, letting in enough light to reveal my father sitting in the recliner.

"Hello, Dad," I said, stepping into the room. The door closed behind me and the light clicked on, and I was suddenly surrounded by henchmen.

"Hello, Seraphim," he said as his men began pawing at me. As I'd expected, they grabbed the 9mm immediately. "Forgive me for being careful, but I can't be sure if you're still playing for our side.""That's rather smart of you, Dad," I said, grimacing as one of the thugs went from patting me down to openly fondling me. Dad put a bullet in his head.

"Keep your hands where they're acceptable, boys," he said as the thug that had been handling me fell to the ground. "And don't forget that you're all replaceable. Now, daughter, let's head to the hideout, now that you're unarmed. But, just for safety purposes…" He slapped a metal bracelet on my wrist, and I felt the same feeling I'd had upon waking up in the detention room. I had no need to ask if it was a power neutralizing bracelet. That much was obvious. I just hoped that it wasn't affecting Miss Johnson.

Without another word, Dad lead me out back, to the alley, where he had an SUV waiting. The thug that dragged me along tied a smelly black bandana around my face, cutting off my field of vision.

"You needn't have bothered with the power neutralizer if you were going to blindfold me, Dad," I said as someone lifted me into the truck. "I can't do anything without line-of-sight."

"Just taking extra precautions, Seraphim," he said from the seat next to me as someone started the vehicle. I could hardly tell if we were moving, much less which way we turned down the dark streets of Maxville.

"Where's Mom?" I asked.

"She's at the hideout, waiting for you," he said. "She's very disappointed in you, you know. It was very irresponsible of you to stay at your friend's house without calling."

"He's not my friend," I said darkly, sticking to my plans for the safety of the Strongholds. "I was gathering as much information as I could about that family. They're very powerful supers, and I didn't want them getting in your way."

"If you were just gathering information, why did you run?" he asked.

"I had to let them think I was on their side to get them to trust me," I said. My father was silent for a moment, and I began to worry that I'd said the wrong thing until I felt the bandana slide away from my face. I held my neutralizer-clad wrist up, but he shook his head.

"I don't trust you that far yet," he said. "And if you can't figure out a way out of this, then you've let yourself get too soft, and you're of no use to me."

The SUV pulled up outside of a darkened warehouse on the outskirts of the city, and I was pushed out of the vehicle and lead through the door and around a series of stairs and corridors until we got to the ground floor of what looked like an underground bunker. As if tired of the fake blonde hair on my head, I pulled the wig off and let it drop to the floor before releasing my hair from the pins and letting them fall, hoping that my bright green ponytail would be enough to tip Mrs. Stronghold off about showing no concern for me. As it turned out, I needn't have worried.

I was pushed into a small room, and, without removing the neutralizer, they shut the door, plunging the room into complete darkness. Not wanting to stumble upon whatever else was in the room, I sat down on the floor next to the door, laid down, and waited. And waited. And waited.

After what seemed like an eternity, there was a rumbling from upstairs. Guessing that this was my cue, I pulled the k-bar from my boot and, my eyes having adjusted to the darkness to see what I was doing, began tearing at the neutralizer with it. As the sound of fighting got louder and louder, I managed to loosen the neutralizer enough to slip my hand through it. Relieved to have my space pocket back, I through the neutralizer into it and pulled out the spare 9mm from the pocket, along with a couple of extra clips, which I put into my coat pockets. Finally, I pulled out a flashlight and turned it on. At which point I screamed, seeing a bloodied, unconscious Mrs. Stronghold across the room from me.

I cut off my scream as soon as I realized that I was screaming, and took my knife to the door lock, pulling the handle apart. Once the handle popped off, I pulled Mrs. S into a fireman's carry and, one arm holding her on my shoulders and the other holding the gun in front of me, made my way back through the corridors until I came across Will and his dad knocking out the last of ten flunkies.

"Seraphim!" Will shouted, rushing over to me.

"Josie!" Mr. Stronghold said, rushing over and taking his wife from me.

"Let's get out of here," I said, leading the two back through the maze of a warehouse. "Where's the Batman?"

"Fighting your dad," Will said as we made it out of the building. "I can fly Mom to the hospital faster than you can get her there," he said, taking his mom from his dad. "I'll meet the two of you there."

We both nodded, and he flew away, cradling his unconscious mother in his arms.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

Chapter Ten

_"Let's get out of here," I said, leading the two back through the maze of a warehouse. "Where's the Batman?"_

_"Fighting your dad," Will said as we made it out of the building. "I can fly Mom to the hospital faster than you can get her there," he said, taking his mom from his dad. "I'll meet the two of you there."_

_We both nodded, and he flew away, cradling his unconscious mother in his arms._

"How is she?" I asked once we got to the hospital and found Will pacing in a waiting room.

"She's pretty bad," he said, turning to his dad, who'd been silent the entire way there. "She's in surgery now." I sat down in one of the uncomfortable chairs, and Will sat next to me as his dad took over his pacing. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm okay," I said, looking away from him as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "You should be worrying about your mom, not me. I feel horrible enough as it is."

"You shouldn't feel bad," he said, turning me to look at him. "You had no way of knowing that he'd be able to get into the house and grab her."

"Regardless, it's still my fault," I said. Before he could respond, I held up a hand and continued. "If I hadn't gone to Warren for help, I wouldn't have been at your house yesterday. He never would've had a reason to target your family, and your mom wouldn't be laying on an operating table as we speak."

"Enough of that nonsense," Mr. Stronghold said, still pacing in front of us in his costume. "We superheroes have a dangerous job. Do you think this is the first time she's been under the knife? It was no different than any other hostage situation, except for the fact that she was the hostage rather than the rescuer. Okay?"

"Yes, Mr. Stronghold," I said, looking down as Miss Johnson (Clairvoyant) rushed into the room, followed closely by Bruce.

"Are you alright, Seraphim?" Miss Johnson asked, watching Mr. Stronghold pace.

"I don't understand why everyone's asking if I'm okay," I said. "I didn't even get hurt."

"I didn't know what to think when they put that blindfold over your eyes," Miss Johnson said, placing a hand on my back and ignoring my statement. "You did good, convincing him that you were on his side."

"It won't work next time," I said. "He'll know not to trust me. And don't tell me there won't be a next time, because, as long as he's still breathing, there'll be a next time." Shaking off Will's arm, I shoved my hands into my pockets, only to come up short when I found something I'd forgotten I'd had, and pulled out the neutralizer. "Any ideas how he got a hold of this?"

"What is it?" Miss Johnson asked, taking it from me as Will watched his dad continue to pace.

"It's some kind of power neutralizer," I said. "He slapped it on my wrist before we left the house. It doesn't have any kind of biometric scanner, and it slipped right off. I'm not sure if they just couldn't get a good one, couldn't program in anyone's biometrics, or if it was some kind of test."

"We have no way of knowing," Miss Johnson said, putting the thing in her pocket. "But I'll take it to Mr. Medulla, see what he can tell me about it."

"Oh! I only just thought," I said. "Has anyone heard anything about Ethan?"

"He's fine," Will said, putting his arm back around my shoulders. "In fact, they're on their way here to wait for word on Mom."

I dropped my head into my hands, and Will pulled me against his chest. "It'll be okay," he said.

"They're gonna think I'm working with him," I said, unable to look at him.

"No they're not," he said.

"You don't understand!" I said, throwing him off and standing. "You didn't hear the things that I said to him. It's gonna look like I'm on his side!"

"Calm down!" Will said, wrapping me up in his arms, holding my own to my sides. "They know you're not on his side anymore, that you had to say whatever you could to get him to take the blindfold off. If you hadn't convinced him, we would never have been able to find you. Now calm down!"

And then I did something I hadn't done in a very long time. I cried. I buried my face into his shoulder and cried. And that's how the others found us, when they arrived; Will with his arms around me, me sobbing into his shoulder. Without a word, Layla and, surprisingly, Magenta wrapped their arms around me, forcing Zack and Ethan to do the same by way of death-glares.

Of course, as soon as I realized that Ethan was there my sobs were reduced to sniffles and I shifted out of the multi-person embrace.

"Gods, Ethan," I said, throwing my arms around him. "I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay," he said, patting me awkwardly on the shoulder. "I'm fine. And everybody loses control. It wasn't your fault."

"Are you sure?" I asked as Will pulled me off of him. Ethan nodded. It was then that Warren walked in, looking fresh from the Paper Lantern (apron and all), and began asking after Mrs. Stronghold. After assuring them all of what we knew, the seven of us took seats around the waiting room to do just that; wait.

It was then that the doctor, shaking his head, came into the waiting room, and said the three worst possible words, followed by a lot more that the blood rushing through my brain didn't allow me to hear: "I'm very sorry…"

A/N: I'm sorry!!!! Don't hate me! I just did what the plot bunny told me… sorry! But it'll work out in the end, I promise! Well, not for Mrs. S., but I'm sure they'll manage… J


	11. Chapter 11

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter One**_

Chapter Eleven

_It was then that the doctor, shaking his head, came into the waiting room, and said the three worst possible words, followed by a lot more that the blood rushing through my brain didn't allow me to hear: "I'm very sorry…"_

I didn't listen beyond that… I couldn't. Those three words told me everything that I needed to hear, everything I couldn't bear. I saw Mr. Stronghold fall to his knees and knew beyond a doubt what had happened. So I ran. I ran and ran and ran, not really sure where I would go. I heard footsteps running behind me, a few pairs of them, but I didn't pause. All I could think of was how it had been my fault…

I knew I shouldn't have stayed at the Strongholds… I knew it, but I did it anyways. All my life, I lived off of my instincts… and the instinct to run is always the strongest. But I stumbled, tripped and fell over an empty gurney some stories up from where Mr. Stronghold was wailing. Somebody grabbed me from behind, stopping my fall, and strong arms crushed me to a firm chest, and I could hear Will sobbing near-silently next to my ear as I sobbed loudly into his chest. We cried for some time… I'm not really sure how long… and, once I somewhat regained control of my vocal chords, I apologized. Over and over again. And then I cried some more. Will was very good about it, allowing me to cry all over his shirt, and the others were watching. I could almost feel their pity radiating like an explosion…

My sobs ceased when a warm hand made its way to my shoulder. Looking up and back, I was somewhat surprised to see Warren standing there. Layla was next to him, a sad frown on her face.

"You shouldn't have followed me," I said, looking between the three of them. "Oh, Gods, what if he saw that?"

"Seraphim?" Will asked, his arms still around me. I shook him off.

"Gods, we're in public," I said, my gaze darting from them to every which direction I could see. "He could be anywhere!" Slipping out of Will's arms and out from under Warren's, I made my way to the nearest empty room. The other three followed me, and Layla shut the door. "I think I have a plan. But it's gonna take everyone."

Two hours later, we were all assembled at Bruce's new place. And, when I say all of us, I mean_ all _of us. We were all sitting along the massive dining room table, Bruce at the head, me on his right, Will next to me (his dad was making the arrangements for his mom), Warren next to him, his mom, Flamerella (no, I didn't make that up), next to him, Layla's dad, The Mighty Oak, next to her, then Layla, and then her mom, the Whisperer. Principal Powers was on Bruce's left, with Ethan next to her, his dad, the Wave, next to him, and then Zack and his dad, the Illuminator, and then Magenta and her mom, Dragon. Miss Johnson, Clairvoyant, was at the very end.

"We all know why we're here," Bruce began, only to be cut off by Magenta's mom, a fierce looking woman with long dark hair.

"No we don't," she said. "All I know is that my daughter called me and said to meet her here." There was much agreement from the parents around the table.

"My father broke out of prison, turned my mother, and killed Mrs. Stronghold," I said loudly. The parents shut up and stared at me dumbly. "Now, I have a plan for stopping him, but we'll need as many heroes as can be spared. It'll be dangerous, and we'll no doubt lose someone, if not many someones. The plan is in no way fool-proof, and I'm willing to listen to anyone else's plans. But this is all I can think of.

"The Joker will have moved his base, since the Batman showed up. I read your thesis, Clairvoyant. You said that once you've been in someone's mind, they're easier to get into again, right?" Miss Johnson nodded. "And you also touched on how it's easier to find the minds you're related to, right?" She nodded again. "Now, tell me if this would work, theoretically. If you were piggybacking on my mind again, would you be able to sense my father's mind, because you've been in mine and he's related to me?"

"In theory, yes," Miss Johnson said. "In practice, it's a bit more complicated than that, but it should work."

"Alright," I said. "You and I, and probably Bruce, are going to drive around town, and you're gonna be mentally hitch hiking through me, and we're gonna find him."

"Then why are the rest of us here?" Flamerella asked.

"Yeah," the Wave put in. "If you've got all of this put together, why do you need us?"

"I need you for phase two," I said. "We need to put together a mass of superheroes."

"Why?" the Mighty Oak asked.

"Because," I said, reaching a hand towards a glass of water about halfway down the table. When nothing happened, I frowned, losing my train of thought. I tried invoking my telekinesis on the glass again, and it moved about an inch closer before coming to a shaky stop. "What the-?" My exclamation was cut off by the headache that came raging through my skull. I grabbed my head and moaned as the room started spinning.

"Seraphim?" I could hear someone calling my name, but I couldn't recognize their voice; it sounded as if I was under water. I tried to stand, to move, anything to make the pounding go away, but fell over as soon as I stood; my equilibrium was gone. Somebody shouted my name, and I felt strong arms pick me up off of the floor, but everything was so blurry, I couldn't make out their face. Someone was talking to me, and I knew they were moving me, but the pounding in my skull increased as I slipped into oblivion.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.**

Chapter 12

_"Seraphim?" I could hear someone calling my name, but I couldn't recognize their voice; it sounded as if I was under water. I tried to stand, to move, anything to make the pounding go away, but fell over as soon as I stood; my equilibrium was gone. Somebody shouted my name, and I felt strong arms pick me up off of the floor, but everything was so blurry, I couldn't make out their face. Someone was talking to me, and I knew they were moving me, but the pounding in my skull increased as I slipped into oblivion._

I came to with Will's face in my eyes.

"What happened?" I asked, shaking my head as I sat up in what I then realized was a hospital bed.

"You freaked out," he said, leaning back in his chair. "You were getting ready to tell us about Phase Two of your plan."

Thinking back, the impromptu meeting came forth from my memory. As did my telekinesis. Looking around the room, I saw a half-eaten donut on the table next to Will. I reached a hand out toward the donut, let loose with my powers, and… nothing. Nothing but a small headache.

"It's gone," I said, shocked. I tried to reach out again, but noticed something strange.

"What's gone?" Will asked, concerned.

"Not gone," I rephrased, "something's blocking it."

"Blocking what, Seraphim?" he asked. "What's going on?"

"Get me a doctor," I said. "One that specializes in mental abilities. Something's blocking my telekinesis."

It took less than a minute for Will to find a doctor. Bruce followed them in. It took ten to explain what was going on.

"Have you come into contact with any strange chemicals recently? Anything you've never dealt with before?" Dr. Andrews asked, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder.

"Not that I know of," I said, scratching a sudden itch on my wrist.

"What's that?" she asked, staring at my wrist.

"Just a bug bite," I said uncertainly, extending my wrist towards her.

"And it itches here?" she asked, tapping a fingertip on the tiny red bump. I nodded. "Do you ever wear any kind of wrist ornaments, any bracelets or the like?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "Jewelry is a describable item."

"Didn't your dad slap a power neutralizer on you?" Will asked.

"That's right!" I said.

"Where is this neurtalizer?" Dr. Andrews asked.

"Um…" I said, thinking.

"Christing said something about getting it to Medulla, I'll track it down," Bruce said, cell phone in hand as he dashed from the room.

"Is it strange to anyone else that my guardian is calling my teacher by her first name, and has her on speed dial?" I asked.

"Just make sure he gets me that bracelet as soon as possible, alright?" Dr. Andrews said, shaking her head and leaving the room. Alone again, I turned to Will.

"Alright, Will," I began. "Enough of my drama. How are you holding up?"

"I'm alright," he said with a shrug.

"No you're not," I said, grabbing his hand when he looked away. "Your mom just died, was killed by my father for harboring me. Don't tell me you're fine!"

"What do you want me to say, Seraphim?" he asked, his eyes glistening with tears I just knew he was fighting. "That I want to kill your dad?"

"I already knew that one," I said, taking a deep breath to calm myself. Tell me something else."

"What else is there?" he asked.

"I don't know, Will, but you need to break down," I said. "If you keep all of that bottled up, your gonna explode. And I'd rather you exploded at me than at your friends, I've been through this kinda thing before. So yell at me, scream at me, blame me, kick my bed, you can even cry. Just let it all out."

"But it's not your fault," Will said quietly.

"In a roundabout fashion it is, but you've got enough to worry about right now," I said. "Just… just let it out." Will nodded, letting go of my hand, and moved to close the door. "Leave it open," I said. "They're gonna hear you anyways, and it'll be better if they can see that your not hurting me." Will nodded and took out a deep breath.

ACOAACOAACOAACOA

An hour later, Will and I were sitting in my room, holding hands simply for the comfort of knowing someone was there. The hospital staff had come running when he started yelling, but I shooed them out eventually. He did kick my bed, like I'd suggested, and the staff had to replace it due to the leg being bent ninety degrees the wrong way. Bruce was sitting in the chair on the other side of my bed. He'd raised an eyebrow at the clutched hands, but said nothing. Magenta, Layla, Warren, Ethan and Zack were also there, Standing around the room as if they belonged there. Which, I suppose, they did.

"Alright, guys, your gonna have to fill your parents in on the rest of the plan, since this room is too small for everyone," I said.

"So the plan's still on?" Zack asked.

"Just because I don't have my powers for some reason doesn't mean the plan won't work," I said. "It just means I have to rely on my father's training, and use it against him. Now, here's what's gonna happen."

ACOAACOAACOAACOA

It was another two days, two long, test-filled days, before I got released. Dr. Andrews managed to get a trace of whatever was in the bracelet, which had, it seems, led to the loss of my powers, and was using it to try to come up with a cure. We (my… friends, I guess you could call them, and their parents) were gathered in the living room of Bruce's house (I guess it was my house, too), getting ready for the coming battle. Unlike everyone else (who either had some level of invincibility or could shape shift into something that armor wouldn't help), I was decked out in Kevlar. There were knives and a few guns stashed everywhere about my person, and Bruce and I were arguing.

"Your not going up against him," Bruce was saying. "Feel lucky I'm even letting you go at all."

"If it wasn't for me, you'd have no idea where he was," I said.

"Which is why I'm letting you come along," Bruce said. "But I won't let you go up against him."

"You don't understand," I said. "I have to be the one to kill him. I have to see it… I have to hold the body as the life seeps out of him."

"In your condition…" Bruce began before I cut him off.

"My condition has nothing to do with it," I said. "I was a cold-blooded killer before I had my powers, and I'm not so reliant on them that I've forgotten what that bastard taught me. No, I have to be the one to do it, no matter what anyone else says or does. I don't care if he's your 'arch-nemesis' or whatever, that… thing is my father, and I'll be the one to send him outta this world and into the next."

Before Bruce and I could argue any longer, Will dragged me into the kitchen, out of sight and earshot of everyone else.

A/N: See, I'm not dead, I promise. I've just had a lot going on lately. But, between two jobs and getting ready to press the restart button on the college thing, I'm gonna try to get another chapter pumped out soon. So, keep the faith, I'll update as soon as I can. In fact, I think I'll start it now.

Lots o' love to all my readers (and a little extra to my reviewers).

Writer in the Night.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.**

Chapter 13

_Before Bruce and I could argue any longer, Will dragged me into the kitchen, out of sight and earshot of everyone else._

I stared at the man across the room from me, a long knife in each of my hands, blood dripping wetly to the floor from the tips the only sound in the room. My guns were long gone (I had run out of ammo and abandoned each), but I was finally there. The man across from me smiled a crazy smile, and I matched it. One of us was leaving this room in a body bag. One of us was dead already, but the body just hadn't lied down yet.

As I waited for him to make the first move, my mind drifted back to an earlier conversation.

ACOAACOAACOAACOA

"What's going on, Will?" I asked. "I need to explain to him, he needs to understand…" He pressed a finger to my lips, silencing me.

"He does," he said. "Everyone does. You have to be the one to end this."

"Then why is Bruce still arguing with me on that front?" I asked.

"Because he's worried about you," Will said, wrapping me up in a hug. "We all are. We all know what happens when someone takes on the Joker. Bruce just needs to… to cover all the bases."

"Did you bring me in here just to tell me that?" I asked. Will blushed.

"No," he said. "I brought you in here to do this."

And then he kissed me.

ACOAACOAACOAACOA

I was evicted from my thoughts by my father's maniacal laughter.

"You do realize that your little boyfriend's dead, right?" he asked. My smile faltered. "But I didn't approve of him anyways."

"You're just saying that to throw me off my game," I said. "Rule number 5. When in doubt of your success, try to catch your opponent off guard. You trained me well, Dad. You're not gonna escape from Arkham again, I'm gonna make sure you don't even get there. The only place you're going is the city morgue, in lots of pieces."

"Shall we, then, daughter?" he asked. And then he lunged.

I caught his daggar in between both of my knives and flicked it out of his lose grip, and there was another almost instantly in his hand. I had to stay on my guard. I may have passed my apprenticeship, so to speak, but I was up against the master.

I thought of Will, and a small smile graced my lips as I lunged.

ACOAACOAACOAACOA

Will punched one of the henchmen, knocking him into next week, worrying about Seraphim. He hadn't seen her since she'd ducked into through the door to the underground base about a half hour into the battle. Before that, she'd been like an angel of death. Everywhere she had gone, her enemies fell dead and dying at her feet. She was beautiful, a warrior goddess in the guise of a teenaged girl. She'd been everywhere at once, saving everyone at least once.

For Layla, she'd blocked a blade that would've cut into the redhead's heart.

For Warren, she'd distracted a goon and allowed him to barbecue the bastard.

Himself, Ethan, and Zack had been pinned down under at least 15 of the douches, when she came in, bullets flying.

But, for Magenta, she'd done the most. Magenta had unshifted, due to a knife wound in the side, and one of the goons was standing over her, a gun aimed at her head, when suddenly Seraphim was there, taking the bullet to the chest plate and stabbing the man in the eye in the same moment. Without waiting for thanks, she was gone again, off to rescue someone else.

Will shook his head. He'd have to thank her later, but the middle of a battle was not the time to think on such things. He went off in search of another henchman foolish enough to tussle with the son of Jetstream. He just hoped Seraphim would be alive for him to thank.

ACOAACOAACOAACOA

I was panting, my chest aching from where the Kevlar dug in, my side burning from another knife wound to add to the collection. But I'd gotten him at least once; his cheek was running free with blood. I could feel a welt forming on the top of my head where he'd caught me with the butt of a K-Bar, and my ribs throbbed from a vicious kick he'd delivered while I was down. We were circling each other, knives at the ready.

"You gonna give up yet, girlie?" he asked. "You join me now, I might let your little boyfriend live. If he isn't dead already, that is."

"Just like you let Mrs. S live?" I asked. "I don't think so." I aimed and threw, my knife flipping end over end at an impossible speed. Yet, equally impossibly, he blocked it with his own. I pulled another from a hidden sheath and did a mental inventory. Damn, down from 15 knives to 3. Damn damn double damn. If only I had my space pocket… I had tons of effective (and ineffective, for that matter) weapons in there. If I could just… something flickered in the back of my mind, but was gone as soon as I noticed it.

He lunged again, and I just barely dove out of the way, tucking and rolling to land on my feet, just as he'd taught me. I came up with a ferocious scowl on my face, a feral growl on my lips, and slashed backwards at him, catching his chest, but not digging deep enough to cause more than blood loss. He laughed in my face, dancing backwards.

"I thought I taught you better than that," he taunted. Something inside of me snapped, and I pounced on him, bringing my knife down directly on his throat.

Chortling through his throat, the Joker fell to the ground, gurgling his last breaths. I hacked at him, slashed and stabbed until his head was hanging off like Nearly-Headless Nick's, and rolled off of him, only then feeling the tug in my side as his knife pulled out of his lifeless hand and remained in the sheath it had made in my ribs.

As the blood flowed freely around it, I stood, pulling it out, and tossed it next to my father's body. Clutching my side, I stumbled my way back to the surface. The sunlight blinded me when I reached the open door, and my free hand, still clutching a knife, shielded my eyes. I knew the exact moment Will spotted me, because he flew to my side at supersonic speed.

"He's gone," I said, my voice sounding faint as something buzzed in my ears. "We've done it…" My voice trailed off as I slipped once more into oblivion.

A/N: I know, another 'main character passes out at an inopportune moment' cliffy… I'm a bit famous for them (in my mind). But, it'll be worth it. I may just get another one out tonight, depending on how long I'm awake…

Buckets o' love to my readers (and a few extra to Talis Ruadair and Onyxx09 for being the only ones to post in the few hours since I updated),

Writer in the Night.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.**

Chapter 14

_"He's gone," I said, my voice sounding faint as something buzzed in my ears. "We've done it…" My voice trailed off as I slipped once more into oblivion._

It seemed as if every hero in the world stopped by Seraphim's hospital room while she was unconscious, offering their wishes of a speedy recovery to the gang that watched over her. It had been a long two weeks, and none of them had left for longer than was required for a quick shower and a nap. Will and, surprisingly enough, Magenta hadn't left at all, showering in the bathroom to Seraphim's private room and kipping in a chair when their eyes were too exhausted to stay open. Some kind nurse had brought an old military cot in for them, and none of the nurses asked them to leave anymore; they knew by now that it was futile. Magenta was napping on the cot and Will was talking to Seraphim about everything and nothing, holding her hand and patting her head, when the Commander finally paid a visit.

"Any changes, son?" he asked, laying a hand on Will's shoulder. Will looked up, his eyes red from either tears or exhaustion. Or both. Nobody was really sure at this point.

"I thought I felt her hand move, but the nurses said it was just a muscle spasm," Will said. "But that's something, right? I mean, it must mean she's gonna come to soon, right?"

"Son, the doctor's did the best they could," Steve said, thinking of his wife, buried under a gorgeous marble sculpture of a valkyrie of old. "It's in God's hands now."

"I don't think Seraphim believes in God," Will said, looking sadly at the green-haired girl.

"What makes you say that?"

"Whenever she was in a normal situation to use His name in vain, she'd always say 'oh, gods.'" Will replied. "I don't even know what kind of funeral they'll give her if she doesn't wake up. But she will, I know she will. She has to."

"Son, it's been two weeks," Steve said. "The doctor's said that if there she hasn't improved on her own by now, she probably won't."

"They want to give up on her on a 'maybe?'" Will asked, his eyes dark. "They can't. I won't let them!"

"Calm down, Will, nobody's giving up on her. They're going to send in a mind healer, see if they can reach her on whatever plane her mind is living on."

Will slumped into his seat, kissing Seraphim's unresponsive hand. "Why didn't you say so in the first place?" he asked.

"You didn't let me," Steve said, looking down sadly at his son. And through it all, Seraphim Quintzel slept on.

ACOAACOAACOAACOA

I was swinging, higher and higher, on and old wooden plank attached to an ancient oak tree by some rope. I hadn't seen anyone since I got here, though I couldn't rightly remember where 'here' was. But nothing hurt here, so I was happy. And yet something was missing… I just couldn't put my finger on it. I saw a figure approaching from a distance, and leapt from the swing when it reached the highest point in its arc, and landed gracefully on my feet. I was presently surprised, when I approached the figure, to find that it was Dr. Jacobson, my old therapist.

"Hello, Seraphim," he said, smiling.

"You're dead, Doc," I said, confused.

"Yes, I am," he said. "I have been for three years."

"Does that mean I'm dead?" I asked. Dr. Jacobson laughed.

"No, Miss Quintzel, you're not dead," he said. "But you could be, if you so choose."

"Will it hurt?" I asked. He shook his head. "Where's heaven?"

"You're already here," he said, spreading his arms wide. "Heaven is what you want, and your heart desires freedom above all else, so this is what you created."

"But… Will… Life…" I said, unable to string a whole sentence together.

"Follow me," he said, turning back down the path towards the woods. "There are a few things I want to show you."

I walked along with him, walking through the trees. It got darker the further we went, and things moved along with us. I wasn't sure what they were, wasn't sure I wanted to know. I stopped when Dr. Jacobson did, and he pointed to a tiny ball of light that rapidly grew brighter as it approached. It slowly opened up to reveal a hospital room, where I saw my body lying as if sleeping on the bed. Magenta was holding my hand, and Warren was standing over her. I could hear water running in another room.

"Where's Will?" Warren asked, neither of them taking their eyes off of my still form.

"Shower," Magenta said, her voice flat.

"You okay?"

Magenta shook her head.

"You want to talk?"

She shook her head again, and the scene faded away.

"Is that… is that what's happening now?" I asked, turning back to the Doc. He shook his head.

"That's what it's been like for the past two weeks," he said.

"Two weeks?" I asked.

"You were in surgery for about two hours while they fought to repair your lungs and keep your heart beating. And your concussion didn't help matters. And you've been out for two weeks now."

"Show me more," I said, and he nodded.

We walked further into the forest, getting further and further from the sunlight, until the land began to slant downhill. By the time we reached the next light, it appeared to be twilight.

"Another two days have passed since the bit between Warren and Magenta," Dr. Jacobson said as the light approached. I once again saw myself lying on the hospital bed, but this time Will was there. It was dark outside, and he was sleeping on a cot, holding my hand. He fidgeted in his sleep, kicking off his blanket. Magenta, who was sitting on my other side with dark, heavy circles under her eyes, walked over and tossed the blanket back over him.

"Come on, Will," she said to the sleeping boy. "We're all worried about her. Just… just give her some time. We can't lose you too."

The scene faded away.

"What did she mean by that?" I asked. "What was that about losing Will?"

"That boy has been so worried about you that he's stopped taking meals," Dr. Jacobson said. "He won't leave your side for anything anymore. He swears up and down that you squeezed his hand. You did, but nobody else believes him."

"I… I have to go back," I said, my voice shaking. "I… he can't die just so I don't have to feel the pain. Please, Doc, send me back."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his hands on my shoulders.

"Never been more sure in my life," I said. "But, before I go, I just want you to know. You really did make the difference in my life. Your death made me realize how screwed up I was. I'm not sure it was worth it, but your death kind of brought me to life."

"Then it was worth it," he said. "I just hope you feel the same way about this."

He gave my shoulders a shove, and my world erupted in pain as everything went black.

A/N: Well, hope you liked it. I know, Seraphim's passed out again… I tend to end a lot of chapters that way, don't I? Oh well, that's my right as the author (and her creator). :P So I totally meant to give her a nickname about ten chapters ago (Seraphim's a lot to write every time someone uses her name). But then I decided she'd never had any friends. So, I hope it was worth it, because my fingers are aching. It doesn't help that this is the third chapter I've wrote tonight… and I think it's the most times I've typed her name in any one chapter…

Love cookies for my readers (a couple special ones for Talis for reviewing again… I highly recommend her series… it's excellent), and I'm tired, so good night.

Writer in the Night.


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